“枯藤老树昏鸦,小桥流水人家。”记忆中的水乡仿佛一位端庄娴静、不染烟尘的女子,浸润着烟雨江南的诗情画意,荡涤着山清水秀的灵气,从朦胧梦境中缓缓走来……仿佛一切还在昨日,耳畔是一声渺远的鸡啼,熟悉的小镇从晨曦中慢慢醒来。家家户户都冒起了袅袅的炊烟。古老的石板桥仿佛一弓弯月,又似一位德高望重的老者横跨在河道上,默默地 “Withered old tree faint crows, bridges people.” Memory of the water as if a dignified demure, women do not smoke, infiltration of the poignant and poignant Jiangnan, clean the beautiful aura, from the dim dream Slowly walked ... ... as if everything is still yesterday, the ear is far cry of chicken, the familiar town slowly wake up from the dawn. Every household has risen curl of smoke. The old stone bridge seems like a crescent moon, but also like a respected old man across the river, silently